


SMP Age-Regression OneShots

by OnTheRideToHell



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Coping, Fluff, Gen, How Do I Tag, Hugs, I promise, Laughter, Multi, Non-Sexual Age Play, Nothing sexual in this, One Shot Collection, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Platonic Relationships, Softness, littlespace, requests open, sfw content, weird tagging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:13:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 3,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29255748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnTheRideToHell/pseuds/OnTheRideToHell
Summary: sometimes life can be complicated, it can be painful and full of inconsistencies; people need a break and they get it (completely sfw) // healthy age regression!
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Jschlatt, Alexis | Quackity & Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Alexis | Quackity & Sam | Awesamdude, Antfrost & Darryl Noveschosch, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade
Comments: 38
Kudos: 183





	1. request page

welcome to another dream smp age regression oneshot book! i am open to taking requests at the moment, though please know that it will only be accepted as sfw - nothing sexual at all. i’ll try to update every so often but i have two jobs, so i might be slower at posting chapters


	2. Locked Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> little! sapnap & cgs! dream and george  
> tw: [none]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is requested by an anon, hope you guys enjoy!

Late night winds brew, whispering to each other in the density of the forest. The moon’s beam splaying an open path toward a small wood cabin, a figure sitting on the front porch. His eyes stare numbly at his hands and his brain was starting to get fuzzy. Oh fuck, he was falling into little-space faster than anticipated and the nipping cold wasn’t helping in any way. Sapnap curled into himself further, whining for Dream or George. Though they could not hear him since they were out gathering materials.

Normally the man would have just got up, push the door open and sit in front of the fireplace. Right now the front door was locked, tears forming in his eyes. They wouldn’t leave him alone by himself forever, right? No his caregivers adored him! Didn’t they?

Another half hour passes by, the man shivering - his fingers turning a light purple. Sapnap’s teeth chattered against each other, arms wrapped around his body in an attempt to keep warm. Why today of all days had he forgotten to bring his jacket? Damn, he was so dumb sometimes. “Sapnap?” A voice asks. He perks up, a figure approaching from the distance.

”G’rge? Ith dat you?” His words slurred together, a sign that he regressed while they were out. Fuck, should have left Dream to keep an eye on him. “Yeah buddy, it’s me,”

”I’m cold, G’rge,” Sapnap whispers, goosebumps lining his arms as the wrap deeper.

”Baby, why didn’t you go inside?”

His friend shook his head, arm lifting to point at the shorter before back at the door. “You guys lock it. I not get in,” Tears began to fall, the poor little stressed about the situation. George felt his heart sink, how could they do that? Him and Dream would discuss this later when Sapnap was asleep and warm.

Heavy footsteps, a lime green hoodie and two blank porcelain eyes stared out. “Dream, you have the key right?”

Under the mask their tallest friend furrowed his eyebrows, dirty blonde hair falling from the wind. Quickly he dug through his hoodie pocket, then his back before holding a small golden object. “Yeah. Why?”

”We... might... have accidentally locked the door for Sapnap,”

An audible groan left the stairs, George helping the little up, grabbing his hand. “Hey buddy,”

“mmm..?”

”How old are you right now?”

“Am feeling four,”

Turning his attention back to Dream, George nodded. “Grab his stuff please. I’m going to start getting him warm,” - Sapnap giggled, leaning into George’s side. “We play!”

“No, no buddy. We have to get you warmer, and then we can play okay?”

”O’fay!”

  
Oh how little Sapnap melted his soul, bringing him closer to his body heat. Both of his caregivers playfully bickering, treasuring the small with lots of affection. He loved, loved, loved them!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my first time writing agere. let me know how i did and what i could do to improve!


	3. Hand Him Some Fruit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> little! ranboo & cgs! technoblade and philza  
> tw: [none]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a request from: Theceilingfan213, hope you enjoy!

Sitting silently on the couch, arms folded over each other Ranboo frowned. Truth be told the teenager had been feeling off, he wasn’t sure why though; his head pounded horribly and he felt incredibly needy. Maybe he should talk to his friends about this..., no he didn’t want to be a bother.

Instead he went to his room, laying down on soft pillows, curling up underneath a medium-sized blanket. He took his crown off, sitting it on the small desk beside him. Soon Ranboo drifted off into a welcoming sleep.

When he awoke, soft smells drifted over (Philza and Techno must have returned), a smile evident on his face. Ranboo maneuvered his legs, settling them on the floor and attempted to stand. Oddly enough they felt like jelly as he landed on the floor with a thud. Fuck, it hurt more than he dared to admit.

”Ph... Phi..,” When was it so hard to form words? As if someone took a rubber band and knotted his tongue with said band. Ranboo took two fingers, rubbing them over his tongue to make sure. Nope, nothing. This was frustrating beyond no avail.

Malicious red eyes peered in, narrowing in steeled wonder. “Ranboo, what are you doing on the floor?”

”Tec... Tech... feel off..,”

Technoblade raised an eyebrow, stepping in closer to his younger friend. “You feel off buddy?”

”Mmmhmm,”

He had seen this sort of behavior before, but Techno could not remember for the life of him where. Suddenly it clicked. Of course! Ranboo is a regressor, though this must have been his first time since the kid really had no idea what was going on. “I think I know the issue, but first let me go discuss this with Phil,”

Heterchromatic eyes blinked, Ranboo nodded his head. “M’kay,”

Brief conversation ensued, both men returning to the ender-hybrid that acted smaller. “How about you go grab him some fruit? I’ll stay with Ranboo,” Philza muttered.

”If you say so..,”


	4. Forever Ours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> little! tubbo & cgs! quackity and jschlatt  
> tw: [nightmare]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was requested by b3rryfr0gs!

Dreadful whispers tugged at his pitiful ears, the hybrid clutching his hands over them as he stared wide-eyes in the box. An old comrade, Technoblade, aims weaponry at him (multiple rounds of fireworks on a crossbow). Someone in the crowd screams for him to be let go, after all he is only a child. “I’m sorry Tubbo..,”

Technoblade sets off the rounds of fireworks, aiming for him and the others on stage. Before he could comprehend, he awoke with a jolt, sweat glistening off his forehead. His eyes darted between the objects in his room, the boy plummeting into little-space. “Papa! Papa!” Tubbo wails loudly.

Heavy footsteps approached his bedroom door, yellow glinting as the door noisily came open. “Tubbo.. what’s wrong bud?” - One of his caregivers asked, concern lacing their voice.

”Papa.. bad dream.. bad dream,”

Jschlatt stepped closer, his hooves clicking on the cold wood-boards; gently he sat down on the bed, arms pulling his little tightly in a hug. “How old are you right now?”

Three fingers were held in front of the older ram-hybrid, so he was very small. “Stay pwease,” Tubbo begged. Schlatt pulled him tighter into the hug, hand brushing through the younger’s hair. “Of course buddy, of course,”

Schlatt’s communicator went off, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled it out.

Quackity - _Give me one more moment and I’ll be in there_

Jschlatt - _Sure, I think the kid’ll need you as well_

Quackity - _Duh_

“Momma will be here in a minute, okay?” He asked. Softly Tubbo nodded his head, eye-lids drifting close again. Out of the corner of his eye Quackity walked in, holding some juice in a sippy cup for their bee. The bed dipped on the other side, the cup being handed to a half-asleep Tubbo. Quackity wrapped his arms around the kid too, drenching him in affection.

And for the rest of the night all three of them snuggled, bodies clumped together even as Tubbo lolled to sleep. His caregivers soon asleep as well, arms tangled with one another. “Goodnight bee,”


	5. Don’t Worry Ranboo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> little! ranboo & cgs! techno and philza  
> tw: [panic attack, accidental self-harm]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is requested by cookie (an anon)!

Dream, it was all his fault, wasn’t it? Right, he had followed Ranboo to his panic room and took his memory book. What was once used to mark friends and enemies alike, held an endless array of smiley faces one for each page that he turned. All of it blank, just like his memory. But how could it be Dream? He was locked in Pandora’s Vault at the moment.

Ranboo’s body shook, his arms clinging to each other in what looked like protection. Slowly the ender-hybrid rocked himself back and forth, on the verge of falling to a younger mental state (age). No, he could not fall into headspace, the others they’d— they’d use it against him. Mocking and scorning him for just wanting to be a goddamn kid again.

The ender-half of his face burned, skin bubbling as he cried, tears of agony. Walls flickered around him, from purple to white multiple times, the writing changing as a tall presence stumbled forward. Distorted, muffled sounds got closer as Ranboo leaned more into himself - they _have_ to go away.

One hand brushed his shoulder, not fully snapping him out of his trance only enough to look up slightly. Hands brushed his skin, he was off the ground now, body cradled like a newborn. Ranboo was too in fear to notice a worry glance down at his shivering appearance.

Light shines, bouncing off the windows onto the three figures sitting quietly together. Peeling his eyes open Ranboo glanced around, this... this wasn’t his panic room. “Hey kid.., you good?” That was Philza talking to him.

” ‘m fine,”

”You sure? Because you were really freaked out in there,” His mouth began to dry, head tilting down to look at his mutilated arms from the anxiety. They were wrapped securely in bandages, splotches of crimson still peeking out. He leaned more into Phil. “I’m positive,”

”Is there anything you wish to tell us?” Fucking Technoblade was here to? Ranboo shook his head, feeling lighter than normal. Surely he wasn’t slipping right now, surely- it’s now or never. “Actually..,” He began. “Yeah, I do. Please never tell anyone else about this!”

Both adults nodded their heads, Technoblade looking as monotone as ever. “Well?” The pinkette egged on.

“I..,” He swallows, hoping to clear his throat. “..It- I’m an age regressor,”

Philza visibly loosened his muscles, pulling the hybrid closer to him. “That’s not an issue, y’know Ghostbur used to be one to when he was alive,” The blonde tried promptly supporting the terrified teenager. “..But..,” Ranboo went on, staring a hole straight down the floor. “I.. I haven’t... regressed in a while,”

”How long’s a while?”

”Three months, I’m pretty sure,”

Philza looked up at his friend, eyes full of disdained sadness. “..You can let yourself become little again, we won’t just you,”

”Are you sure you’re fine with this?”

”Absolutely, don’t be afraid to seek us out if you ever feel the need to regress. Don’t worry Ranboo, we’ll be right here for you,”

”...thanks guys...,”


	6. Now, hold Dream’s hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> little! sapnap and dream & cg! george  
> tw: [none]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is requested by fluffnangst (anon)!

Soft snores echoed gently, two men curled around each other, foreheads touching in peace. A third sat in a chair close to them, keeping an eye to make sure nothing happened. He smiled contently watching his best friends napping on the couch, his heart warming as Dream wrapped his arms tighter around Sapnap. Bleary eyes opened, knuckles rubbing across to keep the tears at bay.

George smiled fondly, his blonde friend opening out his arms for a hug; complying the Brit got up and walked over. Dream giggled as he rested his face deeply in George’s shoulder, happy with the feeling of someone in his grip. “How did you sleep, Dreamy?” - Incoherent babble stringing from his mouth as a reply.

Hmm, extra small today - he took mental note up before releasing his grip. Whines escaped the little’s mouth, making grabby-hands for George again. Dark brown gazed up at him, sleep still evident in them. “Oh hey George,” Sapnap mumbled.

“Hi Sap. You feeling good?”

”Mm, my neck hurts a bit but other than that I’m good,” - Hands slapped against his face, before touching his nose. “What are you up to Dream?” - Gurgles erupted, laughter following suit. Lightness filled the air, the little in front of him bouncing around, unknowingly pushing the Texan into headspace.

In a click both smalls stood near George, jumping around and asking the European questions. He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Alright Sapnap, now hold Dream’s hand, we’re going to go outside,”

“I.. I want.. my dotted.. shirt.. p’ease,” Sapnap requested, waddling over to his chest filled with regression items. He and Dream shared one, various assortments of clothes, toys and other belongings sat inside. “Come bring it to me then and I’ll help you get it on, Sap,”

Small hands pulled the lid of the chest up, digging through the stack until a gray shirt with orange polka dots scattered about appeared. Sapnap, still dragging a curious Dream, handed his caregiver the shirt pointing to himself. “Arms up please,”

The original white t-shirt sat in a laundry basket, being replaced by the soft long-sleeve. “Dweam c- come on, pla- play outside wid me!”

Spews of excitement, feet rocking along the floor as George guided them carefully to the front yard. “Please don’t get hurt boys!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i mean i hope you enjoyed this one, i feel like i did not make this as good as the others


	7. Keep Calm Young One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> little! bad & cg! antfrost  
> tw: [swearing, emotional bad]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is requested by toast (anon)!

Four tabs stood open on his computer screen, the words scrambled as Bad huffs before clicking on the second tab. There Discord opens to a private server him and his few trusted friends were apart of, music from Spotify playing on loop through one of his earbuds. Five other people joining the voice call immediately, green rings flashing around their icons. “So what are we doing tonight?” George’s voice asked.

Bad hums, chewing gently on the cord that connected to his computer. Oh, everyone was waiting for him to answer. “Well, I thought we could all play some MineCraft together and I stream it tonight,” - Mummers of agreement swept around the small group. He went back to chewing the cord absent-mindedly. “Why is Velvet muted?”

Antfrost snorts, rolling his eyes at his friends, “He’s not actually playing, just decided to join,”

”Should I kick him for a bit?” Dream questions. Another snort, fingers lingering above an old keyboard. “Nah, he’ll just end up rejoining,”

Half an hour later Twitch was opened, people flooding the chat as Bad clicked on his installment of MineCraft, sitting back and waiting. They had agreed no manhunts for today, keeping it peaceful to a certain degree unless they got too rowdy. Gentle music played before his curser hovered over the mute button, sighing in content when he could hear his Spotify playlist again. “You going to login?” Sapnap asked.

Who was the Texan talking to? Him? “Hey Bad, you haven’t logged on yet,” Sapnap prompted. Apologies spilled from the older’s mouth, entering the game and clicking on their own world. Fresh terrain spawned, greens, blues and oranges of various shades in front of his eyes, a small tan building with a sign popped up. ‘Ant’s House’ in all caps on the sign.   
  


“OHHH GEORGE~”

”Shut-up Dream! I’m trying to train this dog!”

Various noises filtered through making the brunette wince. Loudness pushed him, making his eyes water - honestly he was grateful to not have facecam on. Scrubbing his knuckles against his eyes Bad kept his block character moving. “Suck my dick Ant!”

”Language Sap!” Meekly scolding his friend, ugh why did they have to swear on his streams?

”C’mon George don’t be a bitch,” Dream’s kettle-like laugh wheezed, watching as George’s character got shot by crossbow-bearing skeletons. 

“No Dream! Language!” - A message was dm’d to him.

_frostedant:_ you okay?

 _rat’s owner:_ i donn like it when dey swear

 _frostedant:_ i’m going to call you. pick up alright?

Audio bounced from his headphones, signaling a new call appearing on the screen in front of Bad. He dropped the stream call, ending the stream entirely and clicking out of Twitch. “Hey man, you alright?”

Bad whined, complaining of the foul language prompted by his friends; bottom lip quivering in annoyance. “..an- an den they don’ listen! I keep tell’n’ them to stop. Ant they no like me,”

”Listen, listen Bad everyone likes you! Sometimes though they don’t have any self-control,”

”They not?”

Antfrost shakes his head, smiling gently to the little. “Nope! How about you get on your pajamas? I’ll read you a story,”

”Mmkay Ant. I wuv you,”

”Love you too buddy,”


	8. You Tired Mate?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> little! techno & cg! philza  
> tw: [mentioned bits of violence, blood]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is requested by yee (anon)!

Laughter tore from his throat as he watched the Withers move towards people - not acquaintances, not friends, not others he could trust. The almighty Technoblade feasted upon screams of everyone around him, until his eyes darted up. Wilbur slumped into Phil’s shoulder, the older man releasing his shaking grip from the sword and wrapped slender arms around the corpse. He blinked the haze away, better to have eliminated the lunatic then watch him burn the SMP until it was all ash.

Cold, metal bars surrounded him, his heart thrumming roughly against his ribcage. No escape, he thought at first until his hand brushed against the Totem of Undying peeking from his shirt sleeve. Right, Dream had handed this to him. Quackity screamed of retribution in front of him, how much of an asshole Techno was and proclaiming that the Butcher Army will seek victory during the hybrid’s execution. Above him laid his worries (an anvil), jaw clenched to keep his cool.

Looming in the distance an old, wooden building sat there in complete dormancy. Finally, his cabin had reached his line of sight (not that he had much since his glasses broke) and Techno huffed in pride before opening the door. With a loud thud he shut it, locking for safety before turning around to see Phil on hi- their couch. Said man lifted his head to greet his friend only to notice the way his body shook, arms crossed carefully over crimson-stained clothing. “Don’t. Ask.”

”I was already against it,”

”Good,” Techno plopped down on the couch beside Philza, head resting in his palm. Adrenaline still rushed through his veins, pickaxe clanking down onto the tiled floor. Soft shuddering breaths left his mouth - eyelids closing as Technoblade mellowed out more. Phil wondered if he was falling asleep. “Mate, go get some rest,”

”Don’ wanna,” Did his voice octave go up? “Am awake!”

Phil could hear Techno yawn, quite loudly to admit, before leaning in closer to the blonde. “Just bit sleepy,”

”Alright,” Philza replied, largely confused about the situation. “Do you want me to take you to your room? Or do you want to stay here?” - Techno gripped his fingers tighter around the dark green cloak, burying his face deep into the older’s shoulder. “Mm, here p’ease,”

“Just shake me if you need anything, okay?” A little nod. “Night my king,”

”Nigh’ Phil,”


	9. Cuddle Time Little Dude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> little! schlatt & cg! quackity  
> tw: [none]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one has also been requested by yee (anon)!

“Hey Jschlatt I’ve got some more papers here and-,” Fundy blinked, his boss asleep on his desk, documents scattered everywhere and a pen resting in the ram’s slightly opened hand. “I’ll.. just go get Quackity..,”

”-ut him in his room,”

Two knocks against pine wood awoke Schlatt, his ears twitching at the noise. “M comin’,” He rasped, sliding out of his chair and wobbling over to the door. On the other side his vice stood, arms crossed and head turned to Fundy. They seemed to be deep in discussion until a grunt sounded. “Oh hey Schlatt,”

”What’d you need?”

“Just thought we could relax today, since you seem to be swimming in paperwork,”

”More like drowning in it,” He snorted softly, rolling his eyes. “But sure, that could work,”

”Great!” Quackity cheered, grabbing the taller’s forearm and dragging him downstairs to their shared room, pointing to the top bunk. “I’ll grab some of your gear, just get comfortable up there Prez,”

Schlatt rubbed his face, nodding his head on faint reply, then climbing up the short ladder to the top bunk of the bed. His skin began to prick and tickle, eyes heavy once more. He wanted warmth, comfort. Someone to hold him close as he drifted back to dreamless sleep again.

“Apple or orange juice cotton-bug?” A voice snapped him out of his thoughts, eyes landing on a sippy cup decorated in big, puffy clouds. “Orange juice,”

Footsteps became less noticeable as Quackity disappeared, heading back to the kitchen to fill his sippy. Schlatt’s heart fluttered at the thought, bright smile engulfing his face in pleasure. Moments later a dip in the mattress brought the hybrid back to reality. “Here you go cotton-bug,”

Hands gripped it, his own, bringing the drink up to his lips. Fabric dressed his shoulders, bringing him closer to the other male. Ah, a blanket. Quackity pressed lips against Schlatt’s forehead before pulling him closer. For the remainder of the day they cuddled in that exact position, until they fell asleep, bodies pressed even closer. Arms wrapped protectively around Schlatt’s waist, hair falling everywhere.

Fundy may or may not have got a picture, and then the next day he may or may not have been chased through the White House. Who’s to say for sure though.


	10. Spit The Sand Out, Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> little! wilbur & cg! phil  
> tw: [none]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> extra: wilbur’s headspace range in this is 1 - 2  
> this one is requested by baddest_bitch

Originally Sleepy Bois had planned a big stream, each respective streamer prepping beforehand of Tommy’s mannerisms, what world they were going to play. Though Techno had to drop, saying he had forgotten a doctor’s appointment he had been putting off. The following hour Tommy panicky, dm-ing them of his college project he needed to jump onto. Leaving Phil and Wilbur remaining, though both lacking energy to actually interact with donos and others.

Rather than spending time editing, or uploading videos to their YouTube channels they simply called this week ‘a most needed vacation’. Schedules, the constant strain of planning, of piled up work had been caving the younger. Phil knew this, understood his desires, thereby offering Wilbur a trip to the beach.

Upon hearing this esthetically agreed, saying he would need an extra hour to figure which objects he should bring. Ruffling around his small apartment space the man picked out a pair of swim trunks, a loose fitting t-shirt, an extra pair of sandals, and a towel. All of which were dumped (organized at the least) in a compact bag. He debated on bringing his little bag, giving in with a sigh.

An extra outfit (his favorite, long-sleeved golden shirt and black shorts), a sippy cup, two coloring books (with crayons), and a pacifier managed to fit. Good, he was ready to go!

‘I’m ready Phil’ - He shot a text, grabbing both bags and rushing over to his front door. Arriving at the parking lot Wilbur hopped in his car, throwing his stuff in the backseats. Without almost buckling-up he cranked his ignition, speeding off. Hell yeah he was going to have a fun day!

Waves lapping on hot sand, a sound delicate, ever soothing. Children and adults alike mingle playing in the water free of consequence. Soft spoken whispers, piles of sand made into wondrous creations. “Oh hey there Wil! Just put your things down here beside mine,”

“Mm, alright. Just don’t go looting through it,”

”I’ll try my hardest,” They both laughed, Wilbur’s head fluttering from the happiness. Truth be told he hadn’t regressed in a bit, spending his time locked in his room recording. “Anyway I brought drinks in case, you can have one,”

”Waters I assume, old man,”

”Hey, I am not that old fucker!” Wilbur rolled his eyes, hands landing in his lap. “But I brought some orange juice as well,”

”Rwe’y? I wove or’ng jui’,” Phil smiled, glad to see how excitable o.j made small Wilbur be. “Sand p’ease?”

”Sure, just don’t try and eat it,” Phil picked up Wilbur’s bag of little gear, digging through to find his friend’s sippy cup. Ah hah! He grabbed it, unscrewing the lid before grabbing a bottle of orange juice, pouring a small amount in. Once he finished Phil twisted the lid back on, turning back around only to find Wilbur shoveling sand in his mouth.

”Spit it out buddy,” Bits and grains dropped, going back to their original placement. “Good, now here’s your drink,”


End file.
